


Undressing

by azephirin



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Aliens, Canon Related, Cross-cultural, Dancing, Established Relationship, F/M, Music, Orions, Star Trek: AOS, Strip Tease, Teasing, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-09
Updated: 2010-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 19:52:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azephirin/pseuds/azephirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be / To taste whole joys.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Undressing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt, unfortunately lost to the sands of time, on either [](http://community.livejournal.com/stxi_sinfest/profile)[**stxi_sinfest**](http://community.livejournal.com/stxi_sinfest/) or [](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink_meme/profile)[**st_xi_kink_meme**](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink_meme/); the prompter wanted Kirk giving a lap dance to [this song](http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xzd32_nerd-lap-dance-uncensored-version_music). (Video is the uncensored version and NOT worksafe; it's also such an unrepentant objectification of women as to be practically a parody of itself.) Summary and cut text from John Donne's "[Elegy XX: To His Mistress Going to Bed](http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/donne/elegy20.php)."

Her pout is very cute, and very green. "Well, **I've** never seen a man do it," Gaila informs him. "Only women. And if it's as common as you say it is, then clearly you are depriving me of an essential Terran cultural experience."

"OK, so you can't find it everywhere like you can with women," Jim admits. "But it's not unheard-of."

Gaila crosses her arms and lets out a _hrmph_. It's so adorable that he can't help wanting to crawl across the bed and kiss her—but she stops him with a palm to the chest. "Not until you show me this 'striptease' you speak of."

"Fine, we'll go somewhere—"

She shakes her head. "That is not acceptable to me. I would like for you to perform it, please."

Jim's eyebrows elevate despite himself. "You want **me** to dance?"

Gaila smiles and ducks her chin. "It would please me greatly."

This time when he crawls over to kiss her, she wraps her arms around his neck and allows it. He tangles some curls around his fingers and says, "You know that it's very hard for me to say no when you look at me like that, right?"

She nods, still smiling, and kisses his nose.

"Fine," he says, somewhat more aggrieved than he actually feels. "But we'll never speak of it outside this room, OK?"

She looks almost offended that he had to ask—Orion girls may kiss (enthusiastically and often), but they do not, as what may even be a point of honor, tell. "Of course not!"

He kisses her again, then stands up. "If you're going to have a striptease, you've got to have some music," he points out.

Her disgruntled expression melts into delight. "Oh! I know just the thing." She picks up her player and scrolls through playlists, then taps the screen decisively. "This song is from long ago, but I believe it is perfect for what you propose."

It’s fairly classic early-twenty-first-century commercial hip-hop, though nothing Jim recognizes offhand—it’s got nothing on the Beastie Boys, that’s for sure, but it’ll do for the intended purpose. Jim’s not much of a dancer, but he’s pretty sure that, in this case, Gaila doesn’t really care about the artistry.

_I’m an outlaw,_ the song starts. First layer first—the short-sleeved T-shirt he’s wearing. He pulls it over his head and tosses it at Gaila, who giggles and throws it back. Second layer—the long-sleeved one underneath. He steps closer as he strips that off and drops it on the floor; she leans forward to run her fingers up his chest, but he shakes his head and clucks disapprovingly. “That’s why it’s called a striptease.”

She gives him a dirty look. “A Terran custom I will never comprehend.”

“No touching unless the dancer wants to,” Jim says. He kisses her lightning-quick, then steps back before she can react.

A brash woman’s voice bursts in with, _Baby, you want me?_ Jim undoes his belt, then lets his hands wander over himself for a moment—one over the outline of his cock, halfway to hard already, and the other over the path that Gaila’s fingers had started to explore. He pulls her into a fuller kiss this time, rubbing one nipple gently through the thin fabric of her shirt until she presses against him hip to hip.

Then he lets her go, unable to suppress his amusement at her glare. He slides his belt out of the loops, and she holds out her hand. “Give me that.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“I’m going to tie your hands with this. Unless I decide to spank you with it, which you would deserve.”

He folds it and presents it to her, and whispers, “Any reason you can’t do both?”

Gaila’s responding smile is predatory, and Jim doesn’t resist the hand that makes its way onto his ass.

_It’s a raw night,_ and this time he doesn’t move away as he undoes the top button of his jeans. Gaila nods in approval, though she doesn’t move her hand, and Jim unfastens the others slowly, one by one, as she watches. She leans forward and exhales slowly over what’s exposed; even through his briefs he can feel the warm current of her breath, and he shudders, fully hard now.

This time it’s Gaila who pulls back. She lays the belt beside her on the bed and looks up at Jim with avid eyes. He doesn’t need for her to tell him to keep going.

There’s no graceful way to take jeans off, and he doesn’t try. He hooks his fingers in the belt loops and pushes them down slowly, feeling Gaila’s responding gaze like the weight of a touch; once they’re past his hips, though, he just pushes them down and off.

The song ends, and he’s nearly naked in front of her. She sits up on her knees and beckons him closer; Jim thinks she’s going to pull the briefs down. But instead one hand retakes the spot on his ass, possessive and assured, while the other rubs the outline of his cock until he moans. Gaila leans forward and presses her mouth over it—through fabric still, but right over the head, and he can feel the softness and heat of her lips and tongue. “Please,” he gasps, but all she does is fold down the waistband and lick—slowly, precisely, with the point of her tongue—the line of skin that’s exposed.

She folds the band over again, and again kisses what’s revealed—which is just above his cock; only millimeters and her lips would be at the base. And of course she knows that, why is no doubt why she’s taking a slow, winding path, exploring familiar territory until he’s whimpering under the warm, light touch.

Only then does she look up, pat his hip, and say, “Take these off.”

He does, and, finally, he’s naked in front of her.

Gaila’s smiling, tender and avaricious. “Lie down, baby,” she says. “I have so many different things I want to do to you.”

He buries his fingers in her curls and kisses her hard. “I’m yours,” he says, and obeys.


End file.
